The Bane of My Plant Lady Existence: The Calathea

 The first four plants I bought were a marble queen pothos, kalenchoe, tradescantia spathacea, and to my ultimate dismay, I bought a calathea ornata - otherwise known as the pinstripe prayer plant. Super cool plant in that it folds up its leaves at night looking like praying hands. I could use a little prayer in my life; I liked the idea of such character in a plant, so I brought him home and named him the Reverend. 

Angee warned me they were known to be "a little moody," I believe was the verbiage she used that day. I chuckled and made a quip that it would fit in quite nicely in our teenage-hormone-filled house. I read several articles on proper care tips and things to watch out for that would suggest the plant isn't happy. 

Within a few weeks, the Reverend started to look a little unhappy. I moved him to a different place that had a little less light, added a little more water... he progressively got worse. I laid off the water, added daily misting, and he acted like I was spraying him with acid. For two months, I spent hours researching how to make him happy. Put him here, put him there, bought TWO different humidifiers, pebble trays, made sure he had the perfect soil, gave him attention, completely ignored him. Talked to him and gently told him he'd better get his life together, or I would have to make a difficult decision about our future together. (wow, did THAT piss him off...) I even went to the store and intentionally bought another calathea (zebrina) on the off chance he was lonely and needed a prayer partner. No lie. That happened. I situated them on a large pebble tray, placed the humidifier between them, added a humidity/temp reader to ensure they were both getting exactly what was needed. He just sat there getting crispy and gasping for life while peeking at me through one good little leaf that suggested maybe, just maybe, he was going to pull through. Then, he got is girlfriend in on the gig. She was just as prissy as he was. 

I left tap water out to purify and get to room temperature. No change. I switched to filtered water. Bout died. I started having distilled water DELIVERED TO MY HOUSE for this plant. He AND his new girlfriend mocked my love and shriveled into pathetic miniature shrubs of sorrow. 

In February, the Midwest got hammered with a massive snow storm and bitter-cold temps. We were doing everything we could to keep the house temperature as warm as possible. Our furnace ran 24/7 for days on end, and the average temp in our house was around sixty-six degrees. I made the mistake of walking by the prissy plants, and I swear they were staring at me with their little angry leaves complaining about being cold. So, I grabbed them both up, opened the sliding glass door, and yeeted both of them off the back deck into a snow bank while yelling, "Oh, you're not happy in this lap of luxury? Maybe you'll be more comfy THERE." Plop...plop.... 

And then, I lived happily ever after. :)

Until.... 

I went on a plant purchasing spree in the spring. If it was green and beautiful, I had to have it immediately. I'd spent all winter caring for and researching all kinds of plants, and the time had come to put my knowledge into practice. I gathered all of my beauties to take pictures, identify them with my plant pic app (Picture This), add them to my collection on Pinterest, and when I got to this one, I froze, blinked twice, threw my head back and screamed, "Nooooooooo!" 

What did I do? What did I do??? While high on chlorophyll, in my state of utopia, I bought another damn calathea. A calathea orbifolia to be exact. Jake (my husband) came to see what I was throwing a fit over, and I explained to him the horrible decision I'd made in the store. That which has been banned from my home sat staring at me with big beautiful leaves - completely unaware of the imminent doom coming its way. My ever-so-tactful husband asked me, "What, is that the one you keep killing?" I pursed my lips and begrudgingly nodded. He shrugged and said, "Well, I think his name should be Indigo Montoya...'you killed my father, prepare to die.'" And, that is exactly what we named him. LOL I'm happy to announce that Indigo Montoya is still with us to this day, putting out new leaves and ever so gracious for his happy home here. 

However... 

Another one snuck in. 

Once I realized that, once again, I had bought another damn calathea, (rose painted medallion calathea prayer plant, to be exact...) I knew this wasn't going to go well for me.  I named this one Portia and told her straight up we were going to have to work together to make this a successful, mutually beneficial relationship. Almost immediately, she started to shrivel and act a fool. I changed her soil, went through all of the same care tactics required for this delicate plant, and she scoffed and got worse. So, I showed her what life would be like on the other side and put her little ass in time out in my dark garage for a few days. That seemed to put her on the straight and narrow. She rejoined the rest of the collection, but she only lasted about two more weeks before she, too, met her fate off the back deck. 

I have learned from these experiences, though. I have learned to check every single little plant that catches my eye, check it with Picture This and Google Lens to make sure I don't get sucked into calathea Hell again. It's not good for me, and it's certain death for those evil plants as well. 

Until next time, take care of yourself, take care of each other, and maybe buy a plant... just not a calathea. ;) 

Take care, 

Tami

Turning Over a New Leaf

 Picture it- October 2020... I don't have to explain to anyone that 2020 was a dumpster fire of a year. We were blessed in the fact that we didn't lose anyone to COVID-19, but we did experience a magnitude of disappointment. 

My fiance and I were to get married on March 21st. Five days before our big day, everything shut down, and the wedding was canceled. We rescheduled for November, certain life as we know it would be back to normal by then. However, in June, our wedding venue made the difficult decision to shut down for the remainder of the year. We canceled everything again and finally decided to just have a micro-wedding in October in Hermann, MO. (While that wasn't the big, elaborate event we had envisioned for our union, it ended up being absolutely perfect.) 

Meanwhile, my daughter was a senior in high school in 2020. School closed, prom was canceled, no final goodbyes to her underclassmen friends, graduation was postponed and postponed again until July. I was so angry at all the rites of passage she was missing. 

At that same time, my son turned sixteen in April. No parties, no big celebration, no grandiose event marking this milestone birthday. And worst of all, no friends. Just his immediate family and a few gifts. 

Couple all of that with my health issues, (oh, so this is neat... I have an autoimmune disorder where I'm allergic to my own body and break out in hives for no known reason. I am not supposed to change my core temperature, I'm allergic to the sun, and basically I'm a mogwai with a whole list of rules to follow or I'll bubble up into an itching, miserable ball of suck.) and I was pretty down. I'd lost interest in all of my hobbies, didn't really have anything to do to distract me from life/work stressors, and I needed something to help me escape my obsession with finding a cure for my disorder that no specialist has even been able to crack. 

So, back to October 2020. My best friend of thirty years became a house plant hobbyist in July of that year and kept telling me I needed to give it a try. Decades of dead house plants rolled through my memories, and I told her I didn't think I'd even be allowed in a nursery with how awful my plant care skills were. She persisted and planned a tour of several nurseries in the greater St. Louis area. Watching her like a kid in a toy store was super fun, and the more she talked and ooo'ed and ahh'ed, the more I wanted to take a few plants home and just see what the fuss was all about. 

I bought four plants that day, came home and researched them, read as many articles as I could about proper ways to care about them, started a Pinterest board with my plant care instructions, gave them names, and I'm pretty sure if I knitted, they'd all have had little tiny scarves by the end of the weekend. Instantly, I loved them and even more than that, I loved learning again. Having something else to focus on, something that needed me, something that satisfied that maternal yearning to provide care without upsetting, offending, overstepping, or interfering. I had a new purpose. I clapped and giggled for new growth just as I had with my children when they sat up for the first time, took their first steps, and basically hit every milestone throughout the last twenty years of my life. When they outgrew their pots, I bragged on how big and strong they're getting and felt a sense of accomplishment - like, I could really do this! 

So, that's how it began. That was eight wonderful months ago. Next time, I'll share some of the funnier moments I've experienced with my newfound passion. Until then, I'll be obsessively checking the tracking on my three new plant babies which should arrive in the mail in the next few days. *grabby hands, grabby hands* 

Take care of you and each other, and maybe get a plant! :)

Tami